


You're my Waterloo

by cigarettesandalcohol



Series: I get round to loving you (Is that such a crime?) [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Siblings, Twisted, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-01 15:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17247014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettesandalcohol/pseuds/cigarettesandalcohol
Summary: You'll never fumigate the demons, no matter how much you smoke.





	You're my Waterloo

**Author's Note:**

> The possible sequel to "Grizou, Grizou".  
> ONCE AGAIN: MIND THE TAGS. This story contains incest and some really fucked up relationship.  
> IT'S FICTION AND I DON'T CLAIM IT TO BE TRUE.
> 
> Comments and kudos are welcome as always ;)

"I'm gonna marry Erika."

Antoine was sure he would never forget the look Théo gave him when he said these words. The jealousy, the anger, the disgust - _Erika? Of all the girls_ \- _Erika_? 

"She can never love you as I do - "

"Nobody can. I know."

The usual walk they used to enjoy as kids felt bittersweet now. They stopped by benches at the hill, wanting to take some photos and enjoy the view, but Théo's hand were all over his body in a moment and he had to talk, he had to say the truth before it was too late.

He still felt embarrassed as he said the words.

_I'm gonna marry Erika._

And immediately as he saw the pain in Théo's eyes, he felt the urge to say sorry.

Should he be sorry?

Probably not.

"I'm sorry."

 He still apologized.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Théo asked quietly, staring in the distance with a disbelieving smirk.

"This has nothing to do with you."

Théo doesn't look at him, he stares in the distance, and his silence only makes Antoine's anxiety worse with every passing second.

"I love her."

"You don't," Théo said maliciously, raising just one corner of his lips.

"I do."

Antoine raised his voice and just as he spat the urgent 'I do' he realized just how childish it sounded. Just as it used to be when they were kids.

 

_You stole it!_

_I didn't!_

_I saw it!_

_You didn't!_

 

So little has changed.

 

_You raped me._

_I didn't._

 

And who was there to decide which one of them was right?

 Antoine bit his lip, hiding his hands in the pockets. It was fairly cold and windy at this spot, and the terrible discussion was not very helpful.

"What can you know," he shook his head, looking at the ground. 

 " _'toine_ ," Théo said urgently, and Antoine could feel his gaze. "I know you better than you think. I know you don't love her."

Antoine shook his head, reaching for the package of cigarettes he's kept in his jacket for the past few weeks. He never used to smoke.

Well, he never used to sleep with his brother before.

And here they were.

"Anto," Théo says, looking at him with a silent reproach as he watched him light his cigarette. "It's not healthy for you."

The older Griezmann just let out a desperate laugh.

_And this all is healthy?_

 "Gimme that - " Théo took the cigarette straight out of his mouth with one smooth move and took a drag of it while Antoine watched him, lost for words, on the verge of a breakdown.

Théo was not his little brother.

He was the one in charge of their lives.

And the worst part of it all is that it's Antoine's own fault. He was the one to encourage Théo. He was the one who made him do all of what he's done. He didn't stop him before. There's just no way he can stop him now.

Théo took a puff lazily and then threw the rest of the cigar on the ground, stepping on it with his way too overpriced sneaker. 

"You're hurting yourself with this smoking. A footballer like you - "

"I smoke only sometimes," Antoine mumbles, fighting the urge to light another cigarette.

It's not an addiction. He doesn't need to smoke. He needs to employ his hands, he needs to do something - and there are only two possibilities of what to do. 

Focus on the cigarettes.

Or focus on Théo.

The cigarettes are safer.

He shouldn't be answering to his younger brother.

Hell, he shouldn't be sleeping in the same bed with him. There are so many things he shouldn't be doing - and the problem is he has no idea how to stop.

Théo needs him.

Théo loves him.

It might be twisted and sick and terrible and all - but little Théo needs help. 

In fact, the only thing he feels towards Théo is a pity.

"You're a sick person," Antoine muttered, unable to look his younger brother in the eyes. "You need help - professional help - You should - talk to someone - "

 "Why? Because I love you? No, _'toine_ \- " He smiled, reaching for Antoine's trembling lips. "That's what is so special about us - what we have - it's a deeper connection that nobody would ever understand - It's _us_ \- and the others."

"There's no _us_! We're not - a couple, we're not together - we're just - "

He threw his hands in the air, desperate, hopeless and drained - and in that moment of a complete giving up, Théo was hugging him already.

"' _toine_ , baby, it's okay - " He rubbed Antoine's shoulders, pressing his lips in his hair. "Ssssh. You're good, baby, it's okay - I'm here - "

He sobbed in the tight, suffocating embrace.

 His little brother was the master of making him feel absolutely lost and defenseless like he's the one guilty and sick and wrong.

It always worked.


End file.
